Since I Have Sworn To Loathe Him For All Eternity
by NayaWinch
Summary: 8th Year fanfic (how original). The prologue takes place during the 7th Year's battle. I'll try my best to stay close to canon and to make Ron interesting because I love his character. Enjoy ! Also, English isn't my native language so sorry about the more-than-possible mistakes in spelling and grammar. The title's from Pride & Prejudice. Rated T because I'm the swearing type.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer : I do not own Harry Potter and its marvelous universe/characters/plots. Nor am I blonde, rich and incredibly talented.**

**So I Guess This Is Some Kind Of Prologue**

A flash of light burst somewhere behind her and brushed her ear. Hermione avoided the charm just in time, but some of her hair got in the way. The sour scent of burnt added to the smoke filling the corridor. She did not wait for her attacker to try again and ran away, avoiding as she did the stone blocks crumbled from the walls and the ceiling.

At the corner of a stairway, she got a glimpse of Tonks and Lupin dealing with three Death Eaters, back to back, protecting each other. Hermione stopped and, lurking in the shadow, she casted a spell on the closest enemy. The dark hooded figure fell unconscious to the floor, and Remus glanced in her direction, surprised. When he saw her, safe and sound, relief and gratitude flashed in his eyes. He quickly turned his attention back to his own Death Eater and Hermione hurried in another hallway.

This one was darker, the only light coming from torches hung on the bare stone walls, and the air was thicker, filled with the same smoke that was everywhere else in the castle. The characters had all fled from their pictures, some lacerated canvas hanging miserably from their frame. Hermione stood still and tense, narrowing her eyes to pierce through the smoke. She gasped when a dark silhouette started to appear around fifty feet away from her.

The young witch tightened her grip on her wand and held it higher before her, ready to defend herself. Then the smoke slowly started to fade, revealing the other wizard's face.

Prominent cheekbones; pale skin, almost white, covered with dust; blond, untamed hair; and two unmistakable grey, ice-cold eyes.

"Malfoy", she whispered, stunned.

She then noticed that he was aiming his wand in her direction too, an unreadable expression on his face.

_Of course_, she thought. He was on the Death Eaters' side. He had joined Voldemort's little army, along with his coward of a father. Hermione scolded herself for the unwilling disappointment she suddenly felt in her stomach. No hope was to be found in Malfoy. He would forever remain the same prejudiced conceited prat, with not the slightest prospect of redemption. Still, it pained her. He was her age, she knew him – to her dismay, mainly - and to think he had definitely let himself drown in such darkness made her feel sick.

Suddenly, Malfoy's eyes lit up malevolently, and before Hermione had the time to react and curse him back, a flash of red light burst from his wand.

"_Crucio"!_

Once more, the charm almost touched Hermione. She threw herself aside and hit the ground but it was the only pain she felt. She realized, when she got her head up and saw Malfoy's grin, that the curse was not meant for her. She then followed the young Death Eater's disgusted glare and, turning her head, laid her eyes on the dark shape of a tall man squirming and wailing on the floor. Without a look for Hermione, Malfoy walked up to the wizard and, with a harsh kick in his ribs, made him roll on his back, revealing his face.

"Well, well, well, Amycus, not so brave now are we?" he spat angrily. "Honestly, I don't even know why I'm surprised at your behavior. But seriously, buddy, attacking a girl from behind? That's low."

Malfoy shook his head in disapproval. Hatred impregnated the Death Eater's features.

"Oh come on, Carrow, we're still buddies, aren't we? You've always been such a _good mate_ to me. And of us two, you're by far the best Death Eater, I must admit."

The young wizard studied Carrow's face, an amused expression on his face. Hermione had hard times remembering to breathe, as a cold shiver ran down her spine.

"_Stupefy_," Malfoy casually said, bending upon the now still body of the man, when he noticed that the effects of the Forbidden Spell were fading. "Okay, pal, this was fun but I'm afraid we're going to get back to more serious matters. Such as what do I do with you, big arsehole ?"

He pursed his lips, pretending to think hard. Then he straightened, getting back to his normal height.

"_Sectumsempra_," he cursed in an emotionless tone.

Instantly, Carrow's body jerked as a dark puddle began to form on the floor.

"I won't cast the Death spell on you but it doesn't mean I can't let you bleed out here."

He bent down to take Amycus' wand from his firmly closed hand. Without a glance for the Death Eater convulsing in agony, he then walked to Hermione, and to her surprise, he held out his hand to her.

Still stunned, the young witch took a few seconds to understand that he actually wanted to help her up. Malfoy couldn't help but notice the hint of relief in her eyes. Was she reassured that he did not try to kill her? That he actually wasn't on Voldemort's side? He slightly shook his head, shoving away the ridiculous idea that Granger might actually care. She was merely relieved to be still alive. Besides, he also noticed the hint of fear – she was scared. Scared of him ?

"Well, Granger, today would be nice," he sighed impatiently.

She did not answer and took the offered hand. The touch of Malfoy's surprisingly warm skin brought her back to reality and she took back her own hand, using it to nervously settle her messy hair.

"Isn't her Highness too much shaken?" he asked in a mocking tone.

"You could've warned me," she finally grumbled.

"And ruin the advantage of surprise? Besides, your face when I casted the stunning curse was priceless," he added with a chuckle.

"Go to hell, Malfoy," Hermione muttered, spinning on her heels.

The young man rolled his eyes and his smirk faded to give way to his eternal blank expression. Hermione walked a few steps ahead, then hesitated, and turned back to face him. She noticed that he had not moved, his eyes fixed on her. Uncomfortable, the young witch swallowed and said precipitately :

"Thanks, by the way."

If he was startled, Malfoy did not show it. Instead, he responded, still with the blank face :

"You're welcome, Granger."

Then, like he felt obliged to justify himself, he added in a lower voice :

"As hard to admit as it is, you're the brightest witch I've ever met and if we want the slightest chance to put an end to that noseless maniacal bastard, we need you."

Stunned by the casual disdain he used to talk about Voldemort, Hermione didn't realize at first that he had complimented her – it was not exactly like she was used to Malfoy being appreciative, especially not to her. She nodded and walked away. The realization only downed on her at the end of the hallway.

_The brightest witch I've ever met_ – _we need you_.

She turned back to see him, but he had already disappeared in the darkness. If they were to get out of here alive, she would never, ever let him forget that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note : So here I am posting the first chapter of what seems to be a terrible idea. I'm afraid this isn't gonna be utterly original and well written but I still do hope you'll enjoy you're reading. I'll try my best to make it enjoyable ! **

**Don't hesitate to point the mistakes in the spelling and/or the grammary. As I said English isn't my native language so every remark is good to take ! Also I'd like to apologize because this chapter is as lame as salt less fried eggs. I had to clear things before the story got started but still, sorry. This is terrible.**

**Chapter One : Rain In The Desert**

"Mione, are you okay ?"

Harry's voice snapped the young witch off her reverie. She turned her gaze away from the train's window and a thin smile appeared on her face at the sight of the concerned green eyes staring at her.

"Yeah, don't worry, I was just… remembering," she answered, hesitating on the last word. He seemed to understand, as he just nodded and turned his attention back to a sleeping Ginny leaning on his shoulder. A slight smile enlightened his face, reaching his eyes and erasing for an instant the tiredness that seemed to never completely leave them.

Hermione watched the couple with a sudden wave of tenderness crushing her. She had never seen Harry so genuinely happy anywhere else than near Ginny. Day after day, all the pain and the incredible weariness they all felt were smoothed away by her constant affection, relieving him from a burden that was no longer his. He was no longer the Boy Who Lived. Now he was the Man Who Had Conquered. And he was free.

She turned back her eyes on the familiar landscape passing outside the window, letting her mind drift away to happier days. She remembered all the times she had looked through that window before.

Seven years ago, she had felt so much joy and hope at the thought of an entire world waiting for her to discover it. As the years had passed, hope had slightly faded away, stained by all the deaths they had seen and the battles they had fought. They had saved the wizarding world a couple of times – maybe even the entire world. They had become soldiers. They had become grown-ups.

When did they have changed so much ? When did Harry and Ron become men ? When did _she_ become a woman ? Probably when Bellatrix Lestrange had carved the words of shame into her flesh.

_Mudblood. _She certainly could have had erased the scars from her arm with magic – if she had wanted to. But during the summer she had realized she _wanted_ to see her mutilated skin every day. She wanted everyone to see it. Because if she had healed it, if she had erased it from her like some kind of embarrassing stain, it would've had meant she was ashamed of it, and Bellatrix would've had won. Hermione was not ashamed to be a muggle-born. She was proud of it. Because despite her reluctance to admit it, she was indeed the brightest witch of their generation. And to outsmart every single pureblood who could've wanted to consider her inferior was certainly something to be proud of.

She didn't know exactly when she had stopped to underestimate herself so much. She had a slight clue, though.

"_As hard to admit as it is, you're the brightest witch I've ever met and if we want the slightest chance to put an end to that noseless maniacal bastard, we need you."_

She couldn't believe that Malfoy's words could've had so much impact on her, but here were the facts : if even someone like _him_ was capable to see it, why couldn't she ?

The slight sound of someone clearing their throat brought her back on earth again. She looked at Harry, who had fallen asleep as well, his head resting on the top of Ginny's, his chest slowly rising with his calm breath. Then, as she had no other choice, her eyes laid on Ronald.

He wasn't looking in her direction; actually, he looked like he was trying to avoid any eye-contact with her. She held back a bitter chuckle, both amused and saddened by the situation.

It was obvious that Ron was embarrassed to be left alone with her. When Harry and Ginny had been awake, it was much easier, but now, here they were, trying not to look at each other. And she could feel he was genuinely sorry that they couldn't seem to get back to normal. Whenever someone else was around, they were acting perfectly friendly, and if the third person wasn't aware of what had happened, they didn't notice the slight change in the two friends' behavior.

But still there it was, this awful awkwardness, lurking into every silence, every move, every look they had in each other's presence. This summer had been the longest summer ever to Hermione. Partially because with all the losses they had been suffering, the Weasley family was not really in a cheerful mood. With the end of Voldemort and the end of the war, came the time to look back on what had been lost and destroyed, and the statement was quite horrific. The shadows of Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Dumbledore, and even Rogue, had been haunting the livings. The Burrow had been burned to the ground, leaving the Weasley clan with no roof. Bill and Fleur offered them to move on with them at the seaside, until their home was standing again. Hermione, left completely on her own after erasing her parents' memory, had followed, and the life at the Shell Cottage, while very nice because of Fleur's welcoming kindness and the breath-taking sight, was made difficult by the significant lack of personal space and the constant presence of Ron.

She didn't understand. It shouldn't have been _this_ way. Whatever was the thing they had on, they had broken it up harmlessly, quietly, naturally. Hermione had quickly realized that their bounding during the seventh year, culminating with their kiss during the battle, was precipitated by the constant danger and the fear that there would be no tomorrow. When she kissed him later, she didn't feel the butterflies in her stomach like the first time. It didn't feel right to her, even though everyone seemed to be expecting them to be the perfect couple. She finally concluded that her love for Ronald was more fraternal than romantic. She had been waiting for this, oh yes. She just didn't know what 'this' exactly was until she tried it. Ron was her best friend, just as Harry. They were her family – her brothers. And as strong as her love for them was, she couldn't picture either of them as lovers.

When she had explained it to Ron, only two weeks ago, she half expected him to be disappointed, angry, maybe to hate her. But his reaction was totally different than what she had imagined. He just nodded understandingly, not a hint of resentment in his eyes. So she had assumed they were alright, and now she was wondering what she had missed in her friend's behavior that could explain this discomfort she felt around him and the obvious awkwardness _he_ felt around her. Maybe it was just a phase. Maybe they could get better with the time, even get back to being the best friends again. She hoped so, at least.

And back she was to hope. It had been so rare for the past few years. And suddenly, it was coming back. It felt like a thick, fresh british rain in the middle of the desert. New. Awkward. And much, much welcomed.

She looked through the window, watching the sky getting darker and darker as the night was starting to fall. Then, she looked down to her uniform, and her eyes lit up when they fell on the tiny shiny badge pinned on her chest.

A month after receiving her Hogwarts letter, Hermione was still not believing she had been nominated Head Girl. Objectively, of course, it wasn't much of a surprise. It was her destiny.

_Hermione Jean Granger, Gryffindor Extraordinaire and Muggle-Born Head Girl._ Written in the stars.

Still, she was stunned. Being able to go back to Hogwarts for her last year was a blessing. Even if she had never let it show, everyone knew that giving up on her seventh year to follow Harry had been a heartbreak. Unwillingly, a tiny part of herself had hoped that, if she didn't die in the battle, she would be allowed to finish her schooling and pass her NEWTs. And she had been.

"_Ms. Granger,_

_I have the great pleasure to inform you that you are invited to Hogwarts, School of Magic and Wizardry, to intend your seventh year under the conditions you should have had benefited last year. Given the peculiar circumstances, all the willing students of your promotion will intend to Hogwarts this year as well. The events of May shall not impact the future of this generation in any way. _

_However, some arrangements have been made to ensure the good operation of the School, given the situation. The dormitories have been reorganized in order to be able to accommodate all the students._

_The lessons and classes have been rescheduled as well. All the 'eighth year' students will share the normal seventh years' classes. You will find the usual list concerning the needed books and supplies with this letter._

_Moreover, I have the privilege to inform you that you have been nominated by the School Board as Head Girl. I am perfectly aware that this position is very demanding and implies a significant amount of responsibilities and anxiety. But the School Board, the late Professor Dumbledore, the teachers and myself believe that you are the worthiest person for this appointment. _

_Sincerely,_

_Headmistress Minerva McGonagall"_

Hermione had found herself clutching the letter to her heart, her eyes filled with tears. The recognition of her role model was something she couldn't have dreamt about. And still – _the teachers and myself believe that you are the worthiest person for this appointment._

She had also found herself apparating to her parents' house before she could realize. She was standing in their yard, walking to the front door, when the closed shutters and the dead flowers brought her back to reality. The reality in which her own parents didn't remember her.

She had tried. To give them their memories back. But the spell she had used was too strong. She had found them, a few days after the ending of the war. They led a happy life in Australia. They even had a dog. She had tried to lift the spell, but they had just stared at her, puzzled, before they called the police, thinking she was some kind of fool evaded from a psychiatric hospital.

She had apparated back at the Shell Cottage, shattered in pieces. Her whole world had just crumbled down. She would never get her family back. She was on her own – forever. And it was her own, willing doing.

Everyone had powerlessly witnessed her slowly drowning into depression. It had been an horrible month of July.

Harry kept telling her that it was just temporary. That she was an incredibly skilled and powerful witch and that the spell was just a little stronger than what she had thought, but that it could be lifted – soon. That she just had to wait a few months and try again.

_A few months. _It sounded so easy in his mouth. The reality was quite different.

Even though she had that tiny branche to hang on to, it was still incredibly hard to live thinking that she might never get her parents back because of one of her own spells. If it wasn't for Harry and the Weasleys, she would probably be an empty shell by now. They had all supported her, and given her a reason to stay strong and determined. A reason to look forward to the future. And thus, slowly, her old self had came back. Now she was more than ready to start this year, pass her NEWTs, have incredible results, and mark Hogwarts history as one of the brightest students to ever intend the school. She just avoided to think too much about her parents. Hope was a good thing. Deception was another. _  
_


End file.
